


The Journey

by thestorygirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Drug Use, Hurt Castiel, Hurt Dean, Hurt/Comfort, Knotting, M/M, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Omega Dean, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Castiel, Protective Dean Winchester, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recreational Drug Use, Veterinarian Sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 18:24:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8067985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestorygirl/pseuds/thestorygirl
Summary: For sixteen years, Dean Winchester has been on the run from the abusive alpha he was nearly forced to marry. He was lucky enough to find refuge at the roadhouse, and has been living and working alongside friends Ellen, Jo, and Ash for years. Still, it bothers Dean that he has only limited contact with his brother, Sam, and that the two haven't been together since before Dean was given to Michael. One day, Sam writes to tell Dean that he's about to be married. Dean is determined to be there for his brother's big day, though not only is it illegal for an omega to travel alone, but he has every reason to believe that Michael is still searching for him. 
Castiel has spent years haunted by the violent death of his pregnant mate, Daphne. He's spiraled into a depression fueled by drugs and alcohol, enabled by his older brother, Gabriel, who feels guilty about the role he played in the tragedy all those years ago. 
After saving Castiel's life one night at the roadhouse, Dean thinks he's come upon the perfect plan to be able to attend Sam's wedding... convince the seemingly helpless/useless alpha to accompany him on his cross country trip. The experience turns out to be more than either one of them bargained for.





	

Castiel curled his hand around the shot glass the bartender slid over to him, grunting his thanks. The scent of the man was muted somehow, nearly lost in the scents of the other patrons of the bar, a mixture of other alphas and a few betas blowing off steam, and of the musky odor of the two other bartenders, both alphas.

Still, the man’s scent managed to reach him, subtle and sweet. Castiel wasn’t prepared for that, or the onslaught of memories that followed. The screams of terror, of pain. The scent and the feel of blood, his and hers, flowing over his hands. The way the light in her eyes dimmed and finally extinguished as he clutched her close. The police officer’s cold pronouncement that she’d died; the child she carried along with her. The look of disappointment and revulsion the other alpha had fixed Castiel with, correctly pinpointing his utter failure at protecting those who meant everything to him.

Castiel knocked the shot back; allowed the alcohol to burn its way down his throat, the acrid smell filling his nostrils and blocking everything else out. He set the glass back down on the bar, wobbling only a little, and tapped the polished wood twice with two fingers.

One of the other bartenders, a no-nonsense alpha this time, approached with the bottle of liquor and poured him a double. Castiel dug deep in the pockets of his trench coat, spilling the contents onto the counter in front of him, ignoring the way the bartender’s eyes widened at the various powder-filled plastic bags and rattling prescription pill vials that he’d unintentionally scattered about.

Castiel gave a grim smile as his hand closed around what he’d been searching for, the roll of cash that had lodged in the far corner of his pocket. Gabriel’s guilty conscience, he liked to think of it. Gabriel, alone, of the Angelus family took pity on Castiel after Castiel announced his decision to take Daphne as his mate… and everything that happened after. Castiel peeled off a few bills from the roll, and tossed them onto the counter.

“Leave the bottle,” he said, bringing the glass to his lips. The bartender did as requested and moved on down the length of the bar to calm a particularly rowdy group of betas. Castiel refilled the empty glass and swept the remaining money and drugs back into his pocket, not bothering to try and hide it. What did he care who saw?

The phantom screams grew fainter as the bottle emptied. Castiel had to concentrate harder and harder on pouring. He could still see Daphne’s face, filled with terror and agony as she realized what was about to happen… that her alpha wasn’t going to be able to save her, or her child. Castiel filled his shot glass to the brim and slowly lifted the glass, careful, so careful not to spill. He needed every drop.

******

“ _Dear Dean_ ,” Jo read aloud, sitting cross-legged atop the industrial sized stainless steel prep counter in the Roadhouse kitchen. “ _Sorry to be writing outside the scheduled times, and for using the most recent P.O. Box twice in a row. But this news just can’t wait. Tonight, I asked Amelia to marry me, and she said yes! I half expected her to refuse, what with her also being an alpha, and all of the uproar that will cause when people find out, but… I took your advice and just went for it. And she said yes! I know you think I’m nuts, and what you said about us fighting as often as not, and how challenging it will be living together and running the clinic together is totally true. But it’s also true that we’re in love. We know it might not work out, but we both feel that what we have is special enough that we owe it to each other to try._

_The wedding’s in a month. I know it’s fast, but we’re keeping it small and simple, with just some local friends and some out of state members of Amelia’s family attending. I wanted to let you know as soon as possible, because I was hoping you might be able to make the trip. If you think it’s too risky, I’ll understand. Really, I will. Nothing is more important than your safety, Dean. But it’s been years since any of Michael’s men have come sniffing around here looking for you. I’ve been careful not to even mention having a brother, and no one around here has ever even met you. We can make up a story about you being one of Amelia’s long-lost cousins, or something._

_It would be great if you could be there, and I’d love for you to meet Amelia. I bet the two of you would really hit it off. Don’t bother trying to write back. We’ll look for you mid-March. In the meantime, be safe, and hope to see you soon._

_-Sam_ ”

Jo looked up and handed the letter back to Dean. He folded it and stuffed it into the back pocket of his jeans, then leaned against the edge of the sink, arms crossed in front of him.

“What are you going to do?” Jo asked, tucking a loose strand of hair back into her ponytail. Dean could smell her concern, her worry. She didn’t think it was a good idea for him to go. In fact, she was about two seconds away from going all protective alpha on him.

“Rein it in, Jo,” Dean said. “You know how I feel about that posturing alpha bullshit.”

Jo took several deep breaths, and gradually her scent normalized.

“Sorry,” she said. “It’s just that we care about you, Dean. Me and Mom, and even Ash.”

Jo leapt lightly off of the counter and moved closer to Dean. Petite and blond-haired, she was often mistaken for an omega, from a distance. Her scent always gave her away before too long, though. She exuded alpha, and rarely had to ask twice for those around her to do her bidding, even other alphas. Not Dean, though. She respected that about him, he knew, which made it possible for the two of them, both unmated, to live under the same roof.

“I can take care of myself,” Dean said. “I’m not some poor, defenseless omega that you big, tough, alphas need to protect.”

“We know that,” Jo said. “But we also know the condition you were in back then when you found us. Mom had tears in her eyes, Dean. I’ve never seen my mom cry before or since, not even when my dad left. Michael’s dangerous. He’s not going to just let you get away with humiliating him the way you did, no matter how much time passes.”

“That’s why I’ve been so careful all this time,” Dean said. “I haven’t seen Sammy in sixteen years, not since Dad practically sold me to that dickbag when I was fifteen. I missed his high school, college, and vet school graduations. I don’t want to miss his wedding.”

The door to the kitchen swung open, and Ellen breezed through.

“There you two are,” she said. “We’re getting ready to close up. Jo, I need you to take care of that group of knotheads at the pool table. Ash is already handling the beta bachelorette party. Dean, there’s an alpha on the last stool over there who is about five seconds from either passing out or puking all over my bar. Deal with that, would you?”

“You got it, Ellen,” Dean said, pushing himself upright.

“I’m on it, Mom,” Jo said.

******

Castiel barely noticed the noisy protests of the alphas and betas being told that party time was over. He sat, slouched, on his stool, staring into the rippling amber liquid in his glass; the nearly empty bottle at his elbow.

“Hey, man.” The bartender from earlier suddenly appeared in front of him.

Castiel didn’t bother to look up, only seeing the lightly freckled the back of the man’s hand where it rested near Castiel’s drink. And there was the scent again, that took him back to that night… the screams… the blood.

The bartender cleared his throat.

“Dude,” he said. “Closing time. You need me to call you a cab or something?”

He reached for Castiel’s bottle and glass. Castiel pushed his hand away.

“Not finished,” he said. “I paid for it.”

The bartender’s hand hovered for a moment, then, quick as a flash, snatched the glass from under Castiel’s nose and swallowed what was left. Before Castiel’s fogged over brain could process what had happened, the bartender grabbed the bottle, emptied the rest of the whiskey into the glass, and tossed that back, too.

“Well then, thanks for buying me a drink,” the bartender said, and Castiel finally looked up. The man’s face swam before him, but Castiel thought he could make out freckles and green eyes. And that scent… so faint, but definitely there. Out of place, for this was an alpha and beta bar.

“So?” said the bartender. “Cab? Or are you walking?”

“Walking.”

Castiel slid off his stool, throwing out one hand to steady himself on the bar. The room spun sickeningly.

“You sure you don’t need a ride?” came the bartender’s voice from somewhere behind him.

“I’m fine,” Castiel said. He took a few more seconds, and set off toward the front door. Maybe he wove a little as he walked, but so what? He was upright, he was moving forward, and there was a good chance he’d make it outside before he needed to vomit.

Castiel continued shuffling away from the bar, away from the bartender’s unsettling scent. He let out a breath of relief when he felt the warm, night air on his face, and allowed himself to slump against the dumpster. He soon realized that he wasn’t alone.

“Look what we’ve got here.” It was part of the group of alpha’s that had spent the night challenging each other to games of pool. There were three of them, all bigger than Castiel, all reeking of alcohol and alpha testosterone.

Castiel dragged himself upright. This, he could handle. This was to be expected. This didn’t bring back memories of any one else’s pain but his own. One of the alphas stepped forward.

“We want the money, and we want the drugs,” he said.

Castiel weighed his odds in a fight against the three alphas in his current state. They were definitely not in his favor. Castiel didn’t care.

“Come and get it, then,” Castiel said.

******

“Good job getting everyone out of here peacefully,” Ellen said, from her position balancing the cash drawer. “I thought we were going to have alpha trouble for sure.”

“Which ones?” Jo asked, giving her mop a twirl before dunking it in the bucket. “Mine or Dean’s?”

“Mine was nothing,” Dean said. “Just some alkie loser.” He lifted the full liner from the trashcan, and snapped open a fresh one to replace it. “You shoulda sicced me on the knotheads.”

“I put Jo on the knotheads for a reason, Dean,” Ellen said, without looking up. “Your suppressants and blockers aren’t one hundred percent effective. That _alkie loser_ , as you call him, was scenting you. Imagine if one or more of those other alphas caught wind of you? It would have been pandemonium.”

Dean grabbed the full trash bags and stalked through the kitchen. He hated it when Ellen treated him like he was fragile. Breakable. It was just biology. He could handle a few horny, drunken alphas. He wasn’t some shrinking violet of an omega. How many times did he have to prove himself?

He kicked the backdoor open, and stopped dead in his tracks. Four alphas blocked his access to the dumpster. Two were on the ground, and the other two were in in the middle of pummeling one of the fallen.

“Hey!” Dean shouted, not stopping to consider that that might not be the wisest course of action.

One of the alphas paused in the act of delivering a kick and looked in Dean’s direction.

“Well, ain’t you pretty,” he said, lowering his foot and slapping the other alpha on the shoulder to get his attention. They both stepped away from the motionless figure on the ground, advancing on Dean.

“Too pretty for an alpha,” said the second man.

Dean held his ground, dropping the trash bags. They were intrigued, sure, but Dean could tell that, thanks to the blockers, they hadn’t pinpointed the real meaning behind his scent. They didn’t yet know what he was.

“Come on and get a closer look,” Dean said, adjusting his stance, feet shoulder width apart, arms hanging loosely at his sides, ready to respond to pretty much any way they could think of to attack.

The alpha who’d spoken first launched himself at Dean. He was slow and clumsy, and Dean couldn’t tell if it was entirely due to how inebriated he was, or if he was just uncoordinated in general. He easily sidestepped the attack, pivoted, and brought his clasped hands down between the man’s shoulder blades. The alpha dropped with a pained grunt of surprise, and stayed down. The second alpha halted his momentum, and Dean turned in his direction. They stared at each other for seconds that dragged on. Finally, Dean broke the silence.

“You want next?” he said.

The alpha looked from his one fallen companion to another, and whipped around when a groan sounded from behind him. The man that the alpha and his friends had been beating on was starting to stir. The alpha looked back to Dean. Slowly, he started backing away. Dean feinted a lunge in his direction, and the alpha jumped back, tripping over his friend on the ground. The alpha prodded his fallen friend’s shoulder, until the man blinked and sat up with a gasp. The alpha who had tripped said something in a voice too low for Dean to hear, but which soon resulted in both of them staggering to their feet and propping the third alpha up between them.

“We don’t want any trouble,” the first one said.

“Yeah, right,” Dean said. “You have ten seconds to get out of here before I call the cops.”

Jo and Ash appeared at the door just as the ungainly threesome staggered off in the direction of the parking lot.

“Dean, what did you do?” Jo demanded, looking down at the trenchcoated alpha crumpled at their feet.

“I didn’t do anything,” Dean said. “I came out here and those knotheads from earlier were ganging up on this guy. I just… helped them decide to move along, is all.”

“Without backup?” Jo said, at the same time Ash blurted,

“Three alphas? Damn.”

“Well, one was already down for the count when I got out here,” Dean said. “The other two didn’t put up much of a fight.”

Both Jo and Ash looked as though they wanted to say more, but Dean didn’t give them the opportunity. He turned away from them and knelt beside the alpha on the ground, feeling for a pulse. It was slow and steady. There were some minor cuts and scratches on the alpha’s face, and the beginning of some bruising, but nothing seemed too serious.

“Does he need an ambulance?” Ash asked. “Because, that’s not…” he didn’t finish. He didn’t need to. Both Dean and Jo knew what he’d been about to say. That calling an ambulance would blow Dean’s cover. That it would get Ellen in trouble for not only employing an omega in a beta and alpha bar, but for even allowing Dean on the premises.

Jo joined Dean on the ground at the alpha’s side, and performed a quick assessment of her own.

“I think he’ll be fine,” she said. “None of his injuries look that bad. I think he just needs to sleep it off and sober up. We can put him in one the old boarding rooms.”

******

There was that scent again. Stronger, now. Closer. Castiel’s head felt heavy, and as he allowed it to loll to the side, it hardly registered that his cheek rested against something firm and cloth-covered. The scent only became more prominent.

“Come on, man.” A voice sounded just to his left. “Get off me.”

Before Castiel could fully process the words, he felt himself falling, landing with a whump on something soft and clean smelling. A mattress, he realized. The scent intensified again as strong hands deftly manhandled him out of his trenchcoat. Castiel forced his eyes open a crack. Green eyes stared back at him, and though the rest of the face was blurry, there was no mistaking what the man was.

“Omega,” he murmured, and then knew nothing more.


End file.
